


Live a Little

by landsail0r



Series: Neon Sunrise [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, some nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:37:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landsail0r/pseuds/landsail0r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Neon Sunrise. After meeting unexpectedly at Pride, Krem and Dorian go on their first real date, and Dorian confides his fears in Krem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Diner

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is SFW, Chapter 2 is not. Additionally, content warning for (nonspecific) discussion of abuse in Chapter 2.

Dorian was wrapping a towel around his waist when he noticed the pen on his arm. Every time he’d thought of it before, he had been promptly sidetracked by work and forgotten again within the next thirty seconds. Making a face, he reached for his phone—Krem probably thought he was giving him a polite rejection. He sent a quick text apologizing for having been silent for the last two days, then climbed in the shower.

When he returned to his phone twenty minutes later, he was surprised to find not one but several messages waiting for him. A little apprehensive, he scrolled through them, and as he neared the end his tentative smile widened into a grin. The last message was an address where, if all went well, he would be meeting Krem for a date in just under two hours.

He scrambled to get dressed and out the door in time, fussing with his still-wet hair as he walked quickly to the bus stop. Krem hadn’t responded since Dorian had accepted the invitation, and Dorian found himself worrying that he would get there only to find him absent. He fumbled his bus pass and fell into his seat as the bus accelerated, laughing to himself as he realized suddenly how ridiculous he was being. Something about Krem made him feel almost giddy. Perhaps it was the newness of everything—a new city, a new life, the possibility of a new lover who could walk by his side without either of them fearing retribution. 

An hour and a half and two transfers later, Dorian clambered off the final bus onto a busy street with an unfamiliar name. He peered around at the glowing signs for a moment before he heard someone call his name and turned around. Krem waved from a few buildings down, the door of the dance studio swinging shut behind him. He jogged up to Dorian and threw his arms around him; after a second’s hesitation Dorian hugged him back.

“I’m glad you could make it out on such short notice,” Krem said, grinning.

“I just turned in a 20-page draft earlier today. I was going to be spending the rest of my evening sitting around in my boxers and drinking wine.”

Krem opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and blushed slightly. Dorian raised one eyebrow questioningly, but Krem did not seem to notice.

“What are you doing out here, anyways?” Dorian asked. “I’ve never been this far north of the city before.”

“I teach here,” Krem said. “Split the lease with a little ballet company and a fencing club.” He paused. “Hold on—I should actually lock the door. I was, uh, a little excited to see you.” He smiled sheepishly. “Do you have any thoughts on where you want to go?”

“All the restaurants I know are half an hour away by car.” Dorian followed Krem as he walked back to the door.

“In that case I was thinking—since, you know, I didn’t get to make you breakfast—there’s this 24-hour diner a few blocks from here. Breakfast all day, if that’s what you want.” Krem shrugged, testing the locked door. “Unless, you know, you’re too classy for that.”

Dorian paused, then smiled slightly. “Like you said. I’ve got to live a little.”

“Perfect.” Krem took Dorian’s hand and led him down the street and around the corner. After a few minutes of walking past storefronts with poster-filled windows and a handful of decrepit bars, they arrived at the diner. The air inside was even warmer than outside and carried the aroma of fried food and the distant clatter of plates onto the street. They ordered at the counter before sitting in a half-booth by a window. 

Suddenly, neither of them could seem to find anything to say. After sitting a few moments in awkward silence Dorian turned to watch the fry cook behind the counter. The one man seemed to be cooking for the entire restaurant, and his hands moved—Dorian jumped and pulled his own backwards off the table, and Krem looked at him in dismay, his fingers still hovering where Dorian’s hand had been.

“I’m sorry, I—” Krem bit his lip and looked down, a flush traveling over his cheeks.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I just… I’m just not used to this being something I can do. This city is nothing like the place I came from.” He chuckled and placed his hand on top of Krem’s. “I’m grateful for that.”

Their food arrived much faster than Dorian expected. It was heavy, greasy fare, nothing exceptional, but eating it across the table from Krem felt more luxurious than any of the cold steel restaurants to which his father had taken him. They didn’t talk much, but Dorian kept catching Krem smiling rather too widely to attribute to his pancakes alone. 

The sun had just slipped behind the buildings when they exited the restaurant. There were surprisingly few cars or pedestrians on the street: clearly this was no hub of nightlife. Krem bounced on his toes a little, swinging his arms back and forth and looking around for a second before tentatively asking, “So, uh, is there anything else you wanted to do?”

“I’d hate to go on another long bus ride home after having spent so little time with you.”

Krem smiled, but his tone had an apprehensive quaver. “Oh. Good! Well, to be honest, I don’t know much else in this area. It’s not particularly close to my place. We could go back there, maybe, if that’s something you want…” He trailed off awkwardly.

“Yes…” Dorian nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I think I’d like that very much.”

Krem’s smile broadened, and the two started walking back down the street. After a minute, Krem took Dorian’s hand in his, and this time Dorian did not pull away.


	2. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Krem’s car was aging and a little rickety, but it got them back to his apartment without any difficulties. Dorian hadn’t realized how disreputable the building looked his first time here, but he supposed he had been rather drunk. Though the hallway was shabby and dimly lit, Krem’s apartment was filled with a warm glow.

Dorian sat down on the couch while Krem went into the kitchen. The living room was cramped, an aged couch and a small television crammed together with a table, a large bookshelf, and a broad steamer trunk.

“Do you want anything?” Krem called from the kitchen, the clatter of dishes muffling his voice.

“No thank you.” Dorian put his feet up on the coffee table, carefully avoiding a stack of papers and an empty coffee mug.

Krem came back a few moments later with a glass of water and sat down next to Dorian, crossing his legs beneath him.

“Listen, I… I feel like I owe you a better explanation for what happened in the restaurant.” Dorian twisted a lock of his hair around his finger.

“You don’t have to if…”

“No, really, I want to.” Dorian sighed. “It wasn’t just the place that I lived, you know, though that was part of it. I tried to hide my sexuality from my parents for as long as I could, you know, but I was a kid. I made a mistake, a family friend saw me in public holding hands with a boy from my middle school, and when they found out my father…” Dorian closed his eyes. “The details aren’t important. But I knew it wasn’t safe after that. I felt like I couldn’t even be myself when I was alone, never mind in public. The college I went to was only an hour from my parents’ house—that was a mistake. They were always there, expected me to come home on every holiday, you know. This summer, after I graduated, I planned to go back home for a few months before I moved out here. More realistically, they bullied me into it. For the first week everything was fine, but then I slipped up again and left my computer open and my father went through my email and found something from the campus queer group and…” Dorian stopped, took a breath, and shakily wiped away a few tears. “I didn’t leave, though, even though I wanted to. I planned my escape again and again and I just… didn’t. As soon as I landed here I sent him a message saying that he was not to speak to me again, under any conditions. And I haven’t heard from him since.” Dorian began to cry in earnest, sitting very still with his hands balled into fists.

“Is it okay if I…” Krem reached out his arms tentatively. Dorian nodded, and Krem wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders and held him as he sobbed. 

After a minute Dorian wiped his eyes frustratedly and shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was… a lot. More than I meant to share.”  
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Krem whispered, his face pressed into Dorian’s neck. 

Dorian sniffed. “I take back what I said before about not wanting anything. I could really use a cup of tea.”

Without speaking, Krem rose and went back into the kitchen, leaving Dorian alone for a few minutes to compose himself. When he returned he was carrying two mugs, one of which he passed to Dorian. Dorian gripped it tightly, feeling strangely cold despite the lingering warmth of the day. He took a few cautious sips before turning to Krem.

“I would have asked for something stronger, but…” 

Krem looked up from his own tea questioningly.

“The last time I was here, I was a little too drunk to do some of the things I might have liked to.”

“Really?” Krem chuckled and sipped his tea. “You’re going to need to elaborate.”

“That’s the plan.” Dorian set his cup down on the table and rested a hand on Krem’s thigh. Krem drew closer to him, and Dorian thought he heard a small catch in his breath just before he kissed him. Dorian took the cup out of his hand just before it spilled, but he had to break the kiss to set it down; as soon as it was out of his hands, Krem kissed him desperately, hands grasping at the front of his shirt.

Dorian straddled Krem, fingers pressed into the small of his back then slipping beneath the edge of his shirt. Krem melted into him, pressing himself closely against Dorian’s chest. Dorian only pulled back to give Krem space when he started undoing Dorian’s buttons. As Krem was pulling off his own shirt, Dorian traced the broad horizontal scars on his chest with one finger. Krem smiled. “They told me how to heal them without scarring, but I kind of like them.”

“They’re impressive. Very rugged.”

Krem laughed. “You know me. Picture of masculinity.”

“You say that as if it’s a joke.” Dorian kissed him. “I’m not convinced.”

Dorian shivered as Krem ran his hands down his back, lips against Dorian’s neck. He gripped Dorian’s shoulders and carefully lowered him onto the couch. Dorian fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as Krem kissed him again, spine arching above him. After Dorian struggled for several seconds, Krem laughed and helped him, lingering with his hands inside Dorian’s pants for a moment before pulling them off.

“Sorry,” Dorian said. “I’m embarrassed to admit it’s been a while.”

Krem paused, his own pants already half-off, and laughed again. “We can fix that.”

The touch of Krem’s bare skin against his was as gentle as warm water. He slowly drew his fingers down the length of Krem’s body, tracing the curve of muscles and bones beneath his skin. Dorian could feel the tremors that ran through Krem, and when he rose Krem fell backwards onto the couch, raising his arms above his head and watching Dorian with an expectancy that bordered on hunger. Slowly, Dorian lowered himself onto Krem, their fingers intertwining as Dorian pressed himself close. 

Slowly the movements of their bodies resolved into tandem, natural and exquisite. It was only as he fell onto Krem, laughing and gasping, that he remembered to breathe deeply again. They lay together like that for a while longer; when Dorian finally sat up, one hand still draped across Krem’s chest, he was disappointed and amused to find that his tea had gotten cold.


End file.
